Why can’t you be more like...

            I have the most amazing family. I will be the first one to point out why each and every one of them is perfect. I am the youngest in the family (ok Jack has now got me bet). Anyway being the youngest comes with many wonderful advantages such as hand-me-downs, always having someone around to count on for life advice, but the best of all is that there is an abundance of people to look up to.

            I went through these phases were “I wanted to be just like _________ “ and would pick up habits from each them, such as wanting to play tennis like Nicky & Louisa, be as lovely or kick ass spy like Marisha, put ketchup on my rice like Ian, and even develop a love for pistachios like my father. OK so these are all really silly and not really helpful in the end. None the less my end goal was to turn into as wonderful as a human being as the people I am related.  

            Now being the youngest is not all sunshine and rainbows (ok ya it is, but hear me out). You get compared to a lot. Angus came to take a horseback riding lesson with me, and after not having ridden for years, and my instructor made  a point throughout the lesson “why can’t you do it more like that”.

Other commonly heard phrases include: 

“You know Elise never behaved like this”.

“Ian graduated with three degree in only three years.”

“Marisha had accomplished _____, _____, and _____ by the time she was your age.”

“Matt has friends why don’t you?”

*** I hold no grudges I love hearing these things this is not meant to sound like a complaint.

            The point of this little blog post is that one of the things Peace Corps suggest is that you bring pictures from back home to show your new friends and host family. Have made a file on my computer of photos to show from back home and of my wonderful and perfect family. Each photo has a story all prepared. Who is in it, where they are, one special thing that I think makes them wonderful, and what we are doing in that photo. One of the photos is from quite some time ago when a group of us cousins got together.

The typical conversation goes like this:

“You and your brother look so much alike.”

“How are you related to Elise?”

“Boy is he handsome that cousin of yours.”

“What a lovely family.”

The question that prompted this whole thing goes as followed:

A:“How are you related to her?” Point to Marisha.

J: I explain.

A: “How old is she here?”

J: I make a guess.

A: “How old are you now?”

J:“23”.

A:“Ohh”

J:“Why?”

A: “I guess I though the pretty would be something you would eventually catch up to, ohh well. Kascrot?”

           

Thousands of miles away, and people that will probably never actually meet my family in real life still make statement as to why my cousins are better than me. I will always have a lot to live up to. Yes this story is extremely superficial, and maybe one day I will catch up to the pretty of Marisha, Louisa, Jessica, and Elise. For now my plan is to catch up to the smarts, kind, and wonderful, that is this great group of people I am related to.

Long story short: I miss my family!

Community Based Training is over and I can’t be any happier about this fact. Ok, so it was not all bad actually there were some really great moments in class and of course on days off. One of my friends actually got placed in 3in Amir, Fes for her final site and Peace Corps could not have picked a better person for that site. It is really a lovely place and not far off from anything that a person would need, but if I had grown up there I would feel trapped. Samantha, the girl that is going there is going to be such a great influence on all of the youth there and just do wonders. 3in Amir is one of those communities that is going to benefit so much from a Peace Corps Volunteers. What made it not be the best CBT site was that any time we actually did something and the told them that we were leaving in two months they were disappointed and lost interest in us. Samantha is going to be living with a wonderful host family and is going to make such a difference in this place and I can’t wait to hear more of her story.

On Wednesday May 23, 2012 I was officially sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer. We all piled into bussed from our hotel in Rabat and made our way to the Ministry of Youth and Sports. Surrounded by my friends I could not stop myself from thinking back to College graduation last May, bound with the same knowledge that all of my friends tomorrow would be off to all different parts of the country. We sat and listened to speeches from our lovely Country Director, the Ambassador, and fellow volunteers. In just a few moments we would be volunteers, and we would be off to our own little corners for the countries to try and make even the slightest of differences.

I actually felt something at this ceremony unlike in college. Yes we sat in boredom just like our college graduation, but when we stood and stated our oath I felt as though something not only had been but was going to be accomplished.  That night was spent with friends , talking about our sites, plans for the future, goodbyes, and  see you at Christmas in Kazakhstan (for those of us what were transferred late to the Morocco group).  We stayed up much too late seeing as we all had long days of travel ahead of us, but it was totally worth it.

The next day I packed up my things and made my way to OuedZem with my site mate and two other volunteers that were living nearby.  Jasmine and I lucked out. Our karma has been justified after such horrible CBTs. OuedZem is amazing, our host family and the house we are currently living in is remarkable. According to our Peace Corps emotion chart we are still in the honey moon period so we are not going to get our hopes to far up, but as of now OuedZem has welcomed us with open arms and are excited to have us here, as of now one of my biggest concerns is letting people down.

 OuedZem  is the epitome of posh corps, and one knows that you are here as a government pawn, but there is still so much to be done.  The list of potential projects grows with each walk around town, and I can’t wait to get settled into my own place and really get started. I can now see myself living in Morocco for the next two years which is not something I was able to say before the swearing in ceremony. My Peace Corps experience will not be stereotypical, and I am definitely as far away from living with a nomadic tribe in Kazakhstan as one can get, but this will be an experience none the less with many ups and countless downs. 

I, Jenna Spencer Mc Ewan, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, that I take this obligation freely, without any purpose of evasion, and that I will well and faithfully discharge my duties in the Peace Corps, serving Morocco to the best of my abilities and maintaining the respect due its people. So help me god.

My First Kill

                Blame and fault are two the hardest things to define, sometimes trying to find figure it out can be a waste of time and emotions. As humans we believe that placing blame will help us get over whatever tragedy we are currently faced with. A lovely x-race horse I helped rescues, Just a Letter, and an incredible man, Christopher, died this week in a horrible riding accident.  What ifs, sadness, prayers, condolences, and stories of these two wonderful lives run ramped this week. Moments of joy are struck down because it is just not fair that we get to experience them when these two don’t.  What can be stated for sure is that they were loved, respected, and will always be remembered. 

Topics! Hi, I need topics! Please send along all the random questions you have so I can do a big Q&A . Also it might help me come up with some other things to right about.
Thanks.

Is there really no such thing as fun.

I keep asking people around here for a translation of the word fun in Derija and so far no one has been able to come up with one. The best they can do is come up with is a way to say happy times. If you translate the word directly for fun they tend to talk about “forbidden things”. One of my friends (in a completely silly manner) stated that most of the things we American call fun are not allowed, meaning smoking or drinking. (ATTENTION THIS WAS MENT IN A JOKING MANNER! You crazy internet people). I just got to spend a weekend off and we had the most fun I could have asked for. My spirits were lifted in so many ways it really put me in a better place. Yap a bunch of Americans in Morocco celebrated Cinco de Mayo.

The toughest part is not that these things are forbidden; we can live without all of these things and in this case have, will and don’t care. The toughest part is that not only is there a language barrier, but that there are not even translations to help explain the way we are feeling. Actually in Derija the word mqllq is both sad and angry. The word Sb3 is toes, seven, morning, and lion. Talk about not always being able to express the way you are feeling. “Are you trying to tell me there is an angry lion or sad toes?” Waxxa(ok) so most of the time you can understand just from context what people are going on about, but still.

We had a sit down with our host families to talk about life and gender roles. Of course Americans have plenty of preconceived ideas of gender roles in Morocco and vice versa. First we had to try to get passed just being polite and saying the “correct” answers which we never really did, but then being able to explain the concepts and then have them be understood complexly.

On our time off a lovely group of us Peace Corps Trainees got together sat on a roof top at Bab Bou Jeloud and enjoyed some wonderful conversations. At one point the conversation switched to talk about objective realism and with an open minded group of people, 4 languages that could be spoken fluently, we were still not able to get to a point where we could fully understand each other’s opinions. The end of this debate ended in such a manner that beginning another debate or building upon that one was not possible due to the inability of some to theoretically understand where the other was coming from.

I am sorry this blog harps so much on language, but with the basis of language not being around it hinders conversation from going an interesting place. Now that language has begun to get better and we have been able to have conversations with people who speak the same language I am amazed at how sometimes people just don’t or almost can’t agree to disagree and let that stop them from continuing with a debate. I am grateful that so far my close group of friends are always just willing to move on and continue with a variety of debate, and I hope that I continue to get better at language and inevitable be able to communicate and understand where others are coming from and have them even try to understand where I am coming from.